I look over at Saxon. I take in his beautiful features: those piercing green eyes, that soft black hair, his strong jaw, which I can see is tensing as I stare at him. I follow his arms down to his strong forearms and look at his hand resting on his thick thigh.
I don’t want to fight. I just want to enjoy him, have him around. I decide to be selfish and continue taking what I want from him, what I need. “Want to go get an early breakfast? I’m starved after all that dancing.”
The corner of his mouth turns up as he throws a massive U-turn. I know he’s trying to hold his smile back. I notice the hand on his thigh is flexing so I reach over, placing my hand on top of his and linking our fingers.
Four weeks later
Saxon and I have been so busy at Argo now that I’m getting more and more experienced. We’re getting stuck into the more nitty-gritty tasks and they require a lot more time and concentration.
I don’t get my daily gossip sessions with Harper anymore, and sometimes it feels like days before I even get to see her. She was able to tell me that she’s been seeing the guy from the club for the last few weeks though, and apparently, things are progressing nicely.
As I go over some numbers before sending them to Ruth, my office door swings open and Saxon walks in. He’s got his confident and cocky walk happening so he must be happy about something. “Will you ever knock?” I ask him, trying to sound serious.
“Why would I knock? What could you possibly be doing which I can’t see?” he asks as he stands in front of my desk with cocky grin.
“I’m going to start locking it,” I grumble
Saxon laughs at me. “The only time your door needs to be locked is if I’m on this side of it.”
I roll my eyes at him. “What is it I can help you with?”
“I just came to remind you about the gala tonight. Weren’t you going to leave early to get your hair done or something?”
I groan as I drop my head to the table. “Please don’t make me go.” I’m getting sick of these dinners, functions, galas, and charity events. I’m sick of having to dress up and listen to boring industry mumbo-jumbo talk. I never know what they are on about, and I always feel like a fish out of water.
“Come on, Brooke. They aren’t all that bad. At least we have each other. I used to have to do a lot on my own with Nate sneaking home to you, and you are a much better date than he ever was.”
I give him a small smile for trying to make me laugh. “Fine,” I groan as I stand from my desk, “but I’m leaving now so I can add a mani and pedi to my hair-and-makeup appointment.”
Saxon smiles. “Go on and add a massage too. You look tense.”
Grinning widely, I begin shutting down my computer and grab my purse. Those numbers can wait until Monday.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says.
“Great,” I mumble, and Saxon chuckles as we leave my office.
Sitting in the plush leather chair at the salon, I look in the mirror and barely recognise myself. The beauty consultant is putting the finishing touches to my makeup, and I peruse my new look.
They’ve pulled my long curls up into a messy style sitting below my ears and held in place with a crystal hair clip. My toes and fingernails are painted a soft gold, my feet are scrubbed to within an inch of their life, and my hands are soft and supple. My makeup is heavy with the feature being my dark smokey eyes.
“You look gorgeous, Brooke,” my hairdresser, Beth, calls over from her next client.
“Thanks, I feel gorgeous.” And I do. Maybe for once I won’t feel so out of place at one of these events. I leave the salon, waving at all the girls as they wish me a great night.
Arriving home, I decide a quick bath would be easier than trying to shower with hair and makeup done. Once I’ve washed off I quickly hop out and dry myself. I haven’t a lot of time left before Saxon comes, and I still need to dress. Running into my room I hear the doorbell. Shit.
I slip on my robe as I rush to the door. I fling it open to let Saxon in and plan to just run back to my room. Instead I pause. No matter how many times I see this man in a tuxedo it still throws me off balance. He looks fierce and formidable, and my mouth starts to water. What is he doing here? What is he doing with me? Playing keeper to the broken woman.
“So you approve of my outfit?” He gives me a cocky grin.
Warmth floods my face and I’m brought back to the moment. “Sorry I’m running late. I just have to get my dress on, and I’ll be ready.” Looking behind Saxon I see a limo sitting by the curb. “Shit, we have a car? Will it cost us if I’m late?”